The Distant Affair
The black ivy sprig in your pocket is cold, a piece of dead wood that seems to draw the heat from your fingers every time you check the time. You are twelve years old, Elias Vane, and you are a junior clerk in the ledger room of the Whitmore Textile Mill, a place where the air is thick with the smell of wet wool and rot. Your father works the night shift, his body broken by the looms, and you...
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